The Girl in the Photograph
by Ruby Rosetta Red
Summary: Post Endgame fic. Bobby is grieving, but is it for whom Alex thinks? Goren & Eames friendship only. One shot for now


_I've been battling with this fic for weeks. I've been trying to write it three different ways and it drove me nuts. I wrote it as this one shot, i have Bobby's narrative of his life with Lola and another version, still a WIP with dialogue. This is what i stuck with. In the episode 'Cherry Red', Bobby mentions a girlfriend 'Lola'. I took that and ran with it and this is what came out. The time line will probably be a little off, a little screwy so please indulge me if it is. And while it isn't really explained properly in the fic, Bobby and Lola's 'marriage' wasn't legal, in the narrative version, there wasn't enough time but he thinks of her as his wife. The characters belong to Dick Wolf, NBC, USA et al, i just love 'em enough to write about them. All errors are mine. All thoughts, as always are appreciated. _

* * *

Bobby didn't show up for work.

Usually Alex didn't worry. If he wasn't at his desk at seven sharp as he normally was, then it was for a very good reason. And she would usually know what that very good reason was. Her phone had been silent.

She knew that he was still coming to terms with his mother's passing, and perhaps he had realised that he needed some extra time to cope with that, but the Captain hadn't heard from him and he was becoming just as worried as she was. He had taken the bare minimum time as it was and when she'd gently probed him about it, he had tried to brush it off by saying that he had been slowly losing her since he was seven years old, this time it was more permanent. She'd seen through the flippancy, no matter how old a person was, be a child or an adult, the loss of a parent was devastating, there was no way he could remain immune to that.

So here she was in front of his building. It wasn't often that she visited. When the occasion necessitated, she picked him up off the street and she could count on half of one hand how many times she'd actually been inside his building.

She had tried calling his home number and had gotten his answering machine and as she had expected, his cell went straight to voicemail. She had been tempted to leave messages both times but she wanted to see him face to face, even if he really didn't want contact of any kind, she wasn't walking away until she had seen or spoken to him. She hoped at least that he would let her into the building.

* * *

As it happened, fortune of a kind was smiling down on her; someone was coming out of the building as she approached the door. Just to be sure, she flashed her badge along with a hopeful smile and he was kind enough to hold the door for her as she slipped inside.

Now she stood outside of his apartment door and wondered briefly how he'd react when he saw her standing there. Would he be surprised? Angry? Or would he just not care?

She knocked on the door and waited. A couple of minutes passed. Maybe he wasn't home? She sighed quietly; she hadn't taken that into consideration as she had just assumed that he would be here. She straightened up slightly when she heard the scraping of locks being drawn back and eventually the door opened. She watched as her partner came into view.

"What happened today Bobby? Did your alarm forget to go off or something?" she tried to keep her tone jovial but frankly Bobby looked like hell. He wore old jeans and an equally old t-shirt and in his hand was a bottle of beer. She regarded it with a slightly raised eyebrow. He was notoriously prickly about his personal life; if it didn't concern the job then it was nobody's business unless he invited conversation in the first place. He was not forthcoming right now.

"Bobby?" she looked into his eyes and saw how sad they were, just how exhausted he looked. He looked as though he hadn't slept for days. He didn't say a word, just turned and walked away and left the door open. She sighed quietly; she guessed that was her invitation to come in. She did, closing the door behind her. She followed him into his living room. He kept it sparsely furnished and neat. She expected bookcases and wasn't disappointed. They lined two walls from floor to ceiling and they were crammed full.

"What's going on Bobby?" she asked him softly. He sat down on the sofa.

"I…I just didn't feel like coming in today. Is that a crime?" his voice was soft.

"No, but it doesn't sound right coming from you. How many of those have you had?" she indicated his bottle and he looked at it.

"Not nearly enough" he muttered and took another swallow. Then he looked at her.

"Want one?" he invited but she shook her head. If she didn't have to drive home then she would've happily shared a beer with him. She sighed again and turned. There was a photo album on his coffee table. It was bound in pink and stood out like a sore thumb in Bobby Goren's world of black and white and subtle shades of grey. She stared at it for a moment and then lifted her head. Straight across from where she stood, was a breakfast bar that separated the living room from the tiny kitchenette. A small cluster of framed photographs graced its smooth wooden surface and curiously she went towards them.

They were of a woman she didn't recognise. And she was absolutely stunningly beautiful. She had thick blonde hair, wide deep blue eyes and an absolute dazzling smile. She looked as though she had stepped off a model catwalk. She picked up one picture and scrutinised it and her eyes widened. The same woman was lying in a hospital bed and the flesh had all but melted from her bones. Her blue eyes were still vivid, but dark shadows were painted below them. Her cheeks were sunken and hollow and she was so, so thin. She wore a long white dress that hung on her skinny frame and there were roses in her thin hair. Bobby sat beside her, he had his arms around her, holding her with such tenderness and such pride that tears prickled momentarily behind her eyes. The Bobby she saw in the photograph was much younger and far detached from the Bobby that she knew. The girl in this photograph was his love and she was very, very sick.

"That's Lola" his voice, close beside her, was gentle and it startled her. She turned her head suddenly and looked at him.

"The one with the cats?" his eyes lit up briefly in surprise.

"You're allergic to cats remember? I do listen to you," she reminded him. And like a curtain, the sadness dropped behind his eyes again.

"She ended up giving them away" he told her quietly and then watched her turn her attention back to the photographs. He waited for her to notice, he knew that she would and waited patiently. A minute passed and then another and then she turned and looked at him. There it was; she knew.

"Wait a minute…is she wearing a…"

"Wedding dress? Yes she is" There was another brief pause and Bobby waited some more.

"Wait a minute. You were married to her?" His eyes darkened with pain and he just nodded. He swallowed and took a deep breath.

"I was. She was my wife for a day"

"What happened to her?" She kind of already knew but the shock that Bobby had been married; even this briefly, was raw.

"Lola died. Twelve hours after that picture was taken, she died. Cancer" he told her. He watched her expression become sympathetic and couldn't take it. This was why he didn't talk about his personal life. He couldn't take the sympathy or the pity but Alex was here and she'd seen the photos, she deserved an explanation.

"How long ago?" she watched him take another deep breath

"Eight years ago…today actually. I met her ten years ago and cancer took her two years later" Alex's eyes widened when she made the other connection and she walked towards him.

"Oh God Bobby…no wonder…" she breathed. He just nodded and took a step away from her. She stopped and stared helplessly at him. She wanted to go to him and hug him but he was telegraphing 'do not touch' signals loud and clear.

"Would it help to talk about it?" she asked him quietly and he looked at her. His eyes were dark and almost distrusting. He shrugged his shoulders.

"It might help"

"Jesus Eames, it happened eight years ago, what's there to talk about now?" the flippancy was a defensive mechanism, plus the fact that he'd deliberately addressed her by her surname.

"And you're still suffering. Tell me to get lost then Bobby, it's not like it's the first time you've told me to back off," she reminded him. He didn't answer. He didn't want her here but at the same time he didn't want to be alone. He lifted his head slightly.

"What do you want to know?" he asked instead.

"Where did you meet her?" she watched as he sat back down on the sofa and put the beer bottle onto the coffee table. Then he looked at her.

"I met her at work" he told her simply. She couldn't help it, her eyes widened in surprise

"In Narcotics?" she watched him shake his head.

"No. She was in Homicide. Vice wanted her but she wanted Homicide and she…well she was damned good at what she did, despite the obstacles" Alex glanced at the photograph again, the 'before' picture. Yeah, she could see what those obstacles probably were. The woman looked like an angel, she could've quite easily modelled instead of working such a hellish job.

"She would've done well in either department. She's gorgeous Bobby" A drift of a smile crossed his face.

"She was. I still don't know what it was that she saw in me" he shook his head a little.

"Oh I can guess," Alex murmured and just smiled at his speculative glance. She took a deep breath. She could take a cab into work tomorrow. Bobby actually wanting to talk was important and she wasn't about to let him down.

"Maybe I will have that beer Bobby"

**FIN.**


End file.
